Saving my life — One British costume drama at a time.

The Mask of Zorro

Lizzie Bennet: I don’t mean to be impertinent, but you have not mentioned anything about your husband, and we are already several posts into this experiment.

Me: Right. I thought were going to pick up on the Dead Mother idea..

LB: It seems to me that the longer you put this off the more likely you are to obscure it from your agenda altogether.

Me: You think you’re smart, don’t you?

LB: No. YOU think I’m smart. It’s your blog, but you named it after me.

ME: Up yours, Lizzie Nothing personal. I know you are trying to help. It just that, well, you know how when a friend has a fight with her boyfriend or husband and she tells you all about it and you work yourself into a sympathy head of steam on her behalf…and then she makes up with him and you are expected to just drop your attitude and love him again, too? I am afraid of that happening. I hate that chick thing. I try not to do it.

LB: I assure you, I am as silent as the grave and will endeavor to maintain my objectivity. Out with it.

Me: I don’t want to.

LB: How vexing. Do you want me to guess?

ME: Excellent notion. Then I cannot be accused of telling you anything! OK. Let’s compare him to some men we know and I’ll tell you if is anything like them.

Me: Wow, that is lofty. But oddly enough, at one time I thought he was like Knightley. He was supremely logical, level-headed, kind, and did not take any shit from me. In fact, he is one of the reasons I stopped pulling some of my usual, childish shenanigans. I stopped playing emotional dirty pool. I wanted to be worth his regard. Just as Knightley did for Emma. But he’s not like that now.

LB: So… more like Edward Ferrars from Sense & Sensibility? Passive?

Me: No. Not passive like Edward. Edward does have that dithering quality that Zorro seems to have lately. Ugh. Ditherers. His dithering has made me feel like I am the only one who can get things done. So I just do. I know I come off as preoccupied and hard, but I have a home, children, a job. Someone has to do things and get things done. What happened to him? Dithering!

LB: Let’s leave Austen behind for just a moment and jump into a Bronte. Compare Zorro to Rochester.

Me: O God. No way. Nothing at all. Brandon had a tortured youth like Zorro, but Brandon does not go surfing all day Sunday and Saturday leaving me no opportunity to get to church, run, leave me with carpool for the Karate Kid and trump me on any work I may need to get done.

LB: Is this a “Division of Labor” issue?

Me: No. I just hate Zorro right now and I don’t hate Brandon. It’s simple. Zorro=Hate. Brandon= No Hate

LB: Losing one’s temper is never the best strategy.

Me: Darcy lost his temper.

LB: Is Zorro like Darcy?

Me: No. I’m like Darcy. I keep my temper in check except for steely, icy, well aimed jabs. But I never used to do that. I used to be Anne Elliot of Persuasion. I kept everything inside, because really, what good does it do to blow your stack?

LB: Indeed. Do you remember what happened to Anne Elliot?

Me: She nearly let the most important person in her life slip away because she never spoke up and leveled with him about her doubts. She listened to what other people said. She doubted her inclinations. ….. Damn you…You think you are so smart. You’re smug and irritating and I hate you, Lizzie.